fade into you
by fervors
Summary: This is purely yours, this moment, and no one can ever steal that away from you.—Rae, Finn and a look into their first time.


**a/n:** i reccomend listening to mazzy star's "fade into you" when reading this. it's what i listened to while writing it, and if rae and finn _were_ to make love to a song, i imagine it would be this one. this was meant to be a full story about how things went post-finale, but i felt like i couldn't do rae and finn's first time justice like that, so here's a bunch of overdramatic drabble-like things instead!

**disclaimer:** i don't own my mad fat diary, and even if i did, i don't think i'd change a thing about that finale. can anyone say fuckawesome?

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_fade into you_

There are things you find out about someone when you have sex with them for the first time, like how they have a mole on the inner of their thigh, a smattering of freckles across their rib cage that can only be seen if you squint close-up. You aren't an idiot, you know you aren't the only girl to have found out these things, but still it feels like a secret only you and him know; someday after this, you will take his hand and kiss him on the streets (you _will_), and people will walk past and think they have you figured out, but they won't. In this moment, the number on the scale doesn't matter, although the way he looks at you makes you doubt it ever did — what matters is how his lips curl upward when you run your hands down his back, and how this moment is purely yours, a moment that no one else will never know. Those people will walk past and think they know, but they won't, because they don't know what happens in these moments, they don't know these things you know about him and he knows about you — this is purely yours, this moment, and no one can ever steal that away from you.

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There's no word to describe how scary this is, and you don't know whether that's because there simply isn't a word or his touch leaves you too breathless to summon one up. It's one thing to summon up the courage to look yourself in the mirror and like what you see, but it's another thing to summon up the courage to look someone else in the eye and make them like what they see in you, too. You can't control what someone else thinks, you see, but as he tells you he loves you it occurs to you perhaps you don't need to make Finn like what he sees in you because he already does.

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If you had to describe how this moment feels, you would say it feels like when he drew out I LOVE YOU onto your back, only ten times better. He doesn't draw the words out this time, but the trails his palms, fingers, mouth leave behind on every inch of your skin seem to spell the words out, anyway.

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You enter your bedroom, and you watch Finn with a raised eyebrow as he fidgets with your CD collection. You feign shock and ask, "Is the great Finn Nelson nervous?" and he scowls down at the CDs and says, "I thought you didn't want to talk." He doesn't answer your question, and it occurs to you as he rubs his thumb along the edge of Oasis' _What's The Story Morning Glory?_ that perhaps that's because the answer's yes. It never occurred to you Finn — _Finn bloody Nelson _— could be nervous. It almost makes it seem like there are actually things other than what lurks beneath your worn band t-shirt to be nervous about.

For the first time, you make the first move. Sliding his jacket off his shoulders, you say, "I can think of much better things to do."

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He doesn't want to put a CD on because he feels no song is good enough for this moment, and you think about how much it means when Finn Nelson feels music isn't good enough for something. As your hands tighten around his neck and his fingers curl around your hips, your moans reach a sort of crescendo, and you find yourself worrying more than ever about your mental health when you find yourself agreeing with him, that no song could ever match up to this moment, that you could ransack a record shop and do nothing but listen to music for the rest of your life and still no crescendo would ever match up to the one you made that night with each other's touch as the instruments.

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Another thing you learn about Finn Nelson shortly after this moment is he's a quilt hogger. After several failed take backs of the quilt, he re-wraps himself in the duvet, sighs happily and you're left completely exposed. For the first time in your life, you don't entirely mind.

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When you think about it, you didn't really learn anything more about Liam when you had sex for the first time (the _first_ first time), and you don't know whether it's because you couldn't see in the darkness or you didn't care to look, and perhaps it's both, but when you're with Finn, the light shines bright above you and you don't just care to look, you do not lift your eyes from him lest he disappear and this moment be no longer. Yes, you had sex with Liam and you had sex with Finn, but there's a big difference — with Finn, you learn all these things about him and you can't wait to learn more, you need to know more because finding out more means having more moments like this, and you know how it feels to want to die and if there was ever a feeling opposite to that it would be this. With Liam, you didn't need to know more because you didn't want to know more; your story with Liam was an end, and no matter how many footnotes you added to the end the pages had to run out at some point, and what's more you didn't want to add more pages.

"To be continued," Finn had said. "To be continued," you confirm now. It looks like you've finally agreed on something.

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**a/n:** this is the first thing i've wrote in a while, so i'd love some feedback! please and thank you.


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